Descending On France 1780
Chapter 209 - 202 Lana earned his ’Undying’ title

Chapter 209: 202 Lana earned his ’Undying’ title

General Frost’s main force failed to engage the Austrian main force, while Lana’s troops’ resistance had entered its fourth day.

Early that morning, Lana was inspecting the front lines.

The whole position was permeated with the foul stench of corpses, as too many had died in battle in recent days and there had been no time to clean up the field, causing the bodies to rot and emit a terrible odor.

The French soldiers still guarding the position looked even more miserable than the corpses, dirty and stinky, their faces smeared with blood, looking like fierce ghosts returning from Hell.

As Lana walked, he joked with the soldiers, "Pim, how are you? I didn’t see you last evening, I thought you had died gloriously."

"Hunter, you lucky fellow, I got injured, and you don’t have a scratch!"

"Poor old John, may he rest in peace in Heaven."

Most of the time, the soldiers tiredly responded with a few words, and occasionally, those who still had the strength to talk would ask Lana, "Boss, we’ve held out for three days, today is the fourth day, how much longer does the General want us to hold?"

"Has the General won the battle yet? Why haven’t we received any news?"

"When we return this time, will there be many rewards?"

Lana honestly answered all these questions, "I don’t know, but as long as we hold on, the General definitely won’t let us down."

Throughout these days of struggle, Lana had always been at the most intense part of the battle, at the very front, and the soldiers nicknamed him "Undying," as several times he was the only one left at the position.

It was already being whispered among the soldiers that just like the General, Lana was a thorn in the eye of death.

Previously, the soldiers were curious how a dyehouse apprentice, who hadn’t joined the army much earlier than anyone else, could have become their regimental commander.

Now, there was a new explanation: as an enemy of death, the General naturally could see who had the trait of undying, and that’s why he heavily relied on Lana.

With such an undying commander leading them, this group had steadfastly held off tens of thousands of Austrians.

Of course, the rugged mountain paths and the ancient castle also played a significant part.

The walls of this ancient fortress, unexpectedly thick, had only crumbled partially despite being bombarded by the Austrians with cannons for several days.

When the Austrians tried to charge into the fortress through the damaged parts, they were driven back by the French in fierce hand-to-hand combat.

The Austrians had never seen such frantic bayonet combat by the French and, having almost no experience in bayonet fighting, were directly routed by the French.

And this happened more than a dozen times.

For each retreat of the Austrians happened because after a few of their leading officers died, they would scatter and flee; thus, not many actually died, and after replacing the officers, they would swarm up again.

The situation for the French was far more dire, though, as after days of continuous fighting, the troops stationed here had already lost thirty percent.

In this era, a force that only lost thirty percent and hadn’t collapsed was indeed an elite one.

If not for the forcefully implemented measures by General Frost to wash wounds with alcohol, which significantly lowered the rate of attrition due to injuries, the losses of the French would have been even higher.

But now, this rate of loss might not hold, because the French had run out of alcohol.

Those injured yesterday had no alcohol to wash their wounds, so the loss of the French in just that day was higher than on previous days combined.

In the medical tents behind the French lines, doctors were now proficiently carrying out their usual duty: amputating hands and feet.

Besides running out of alcohol, ammunition was also nearly exhausted.

When Lana ordered an ammunition count last night, he found that most of the troops were down to just a few bullets, and the logistics team’s supply carts were already empty.

This morning’s supply convoy from Brescia brought ammunition that, after being divided among the entire army, amounted to only two bullets per person.

Today, as the Austrians continued their attack, the French could probably only fire for half an hour before having to rely on bayonets to stop the Austrians.

While Lana was inspecting the position, someone worriedly asked, "Boss, what do we do when we run out of bullets?"

Lana looked at the person who asked, tightened the bandage on his head, and then firmly responded, "The order from the General is to hold our position here. Since we’re out of bullets, we can only use our lives to fulfill the General’s order.

"Of course, I don’t force you; you’ve already done well enough. Even if you run now, you still deserve the title of warriors. So after we run out of bullets, you can flee!

"But my choice is to stay here, grab the bayonet, and launch a charge against the Austrians! The Austrians have bullets; after we kill them with bayonets, we’ll take their bullets to use!"

Then someone in the soldiers shouted, "Anyway, they don’t need so many bullets! These cowards charge up but can’t even fire a few shots before they retreat!"

The soldiers burst into laughter.

Lana’s face also bore a smile: "That’s right, that’s exactly it. In these days’ battles, I’ve discovered that the Austrians are indeed cowards who will flee as soon as a few officers are killed!"

The soldiers immediately agreed with Lana’s words with remarks like "Yes, exactly," sounding almost like they were cheering him on.

Lana continued, "Because I served as a captain in the training regiment before, I had many opportunities to meet the General. General had said that our troops, having gone through the Great Revolution, are unlike any other monarchic armies in Europe."

Then a soldier chimed in, "Of course, we’re different; after all, we’ve been led by a dyer’s apprentice for three days!"

The soldiers all laughed.

Now, the term ’dyer’s apprentice’ was no longer a term of derision among the soldiers; through his bravery and good combat, Lana had turned it into a term of endearment.

Soldiers instinctively felt warmth toward this nickname because before enlisting, they were carpenters, painters, bricklayers, and various other craftsmen.

The Revolutionary French Army was made up of urban civilians who naturally felt a class-based affinity for a commander who was originally a dyer’s apprentice.

Of course, Lana didn’t know these intricacies, but he didn’t dislike the nickname.

He continued telling the soldiers: "Yes, the General has a very low opinion of our enemies, calling them merely beasts driven by noble lords; and said that if the nobles are taken down, they’d collapse on their own.

"Now I know, the General was right, there’s nothing to fear from the enemy. Even if we run out of bullets today, we can still hold this fortress with our bayonets!"

The soldiers responded with a chorus of agreement, then someone shouted: "Long live France!"

And together, everyone joined in: "Long live France!"

Pride was evident on everyone’s faces, a genuine and heartfelt national pride.

This was something new in monarch-ridden Europe, something neither enlightened nor conservative kingdoms had ever possessed.

This emerging entity, named nationalism.

In the coming decades, the budding nation-state of France would dimensionally strike at the outdated armies of Europe’s monarchies.

**

The cheers of the French Army drifted with the wind down to the Austrian camp below.

The Austrian commander, Sir Ferdinand frowned, "Listen to that!"

His chief of staff asked in confusion, "What?"

"Listen to their shouts!" Ferdinand said, "We’ve been fiercely attacking for three days, and our own spirits are nearly spent. I walk through the camp and see nothing but gloomy faces. But they still have such high morale!"

The chief of staff glanced at the fortress atop the hill, "Indeed, it’s hard to understand."

Ferdinand: "I feel that the French Army we face is something completely new, something that cannot be measured by our past encounters. I’ve been in many wars, facing both the Prussian and the French King’s armies, but none have shown such traits!"

Chief of Staff: "Could it be because they are commanded by a dyer’s apprentice and their leading commander is a leatherworker?"

"Who knows," Ferdinand shook his head, "Anyway, they and their army are different, and I have a premonition that together with their leatherworker commander, they will make the entirety of Europe tremble."

Chief of Staff: "Should we then report this to Marshal Von Wumze?"

"No! How can we report that?" Ferdinand retorted angrily, "Don’t report it that way; say that the French forces we’re facing, numbering fifteen thousand, are the same as before. The French, with their fortifications, resisted our three days of assaults. Just say that!"

Chief of Staff: "That’s the same as yesterday’s report then."

Indeed, this wasn’t anything unusual, definitely better than reporting being held up by five thousand French troops.

Just then, someone loudly reported: "A messenger from Trent!"

"Bring it here," Ferdinand said.

So the Messenger Soldier stepped forward and handed the letter to the general.

"Let’s see... retreat?"

The chief of staff immediately stepped forward: "What, are we retreating?"

"Yes, it appears the Marshal has encountered a French force stronger than his own... Damn it, the French have concentrated their main forces at the Marshal’s location. Now we definitely can’t report that we were only held up by five thousand. Retreat, Chief of Staff."